


Living your life cutthroat

by tehhumi



Series: Penance for the Unrepentant [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26944000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehhumi/pseuds/tehhumi
Summary: After three thousand years, Celegorm can finally ask the King of Gondor for a pardon.
Series: Penance for the Unrepentant [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419058
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Living your life cutthroat

Legolas and Aragorn were walking in the palace in Gondor, speaking in Sindarin of all that had happened on the quest. Suddenly, a voice rang out in the same language, “Aragorn! Alagor fwion! I’m so glad to see you survived that.”

Legolas looked around for the source of the voice. Aragorn sighed. “Hello Uncle Farar. How fares Imlardis, and what brings you to Gondor?”

A silver haired elf jumped down from the rafters. “Imlardis fares well. Orcs never reached the valley. Arwen is in good health. Elrond will sail soon though; his strength is fading on these mortal shores as his ring weakens. Lothlorien got through with few casualties; the Greenwood was not overrun but I know little more.”

Legolas said, “But, if you crossed the mountains at Caradhras, you would have had to work hard to avoid coming through the Greenwood. And yet you bring no news?”

“I crossed at Caradhras, and indeed worked hard. I doubt that King Thranduil bears me much love, and I wished to see my nephew at least once again. By the way Berenion, congratulations on your upcoming wedding!” Legolas noticed as the stranger spoke that he was ancient, with the Light of Aman in his eyes. An Noldo would indeed be unwelcome in the Greenwood, though not fatally if this was a friend of Lord Elrond.

Aragorn sighed. “Why must you persist in calling me by the names of my ancestors?”

“You gained approval from the lord of a hidden elven realm to marry his daughter by fulfilling a dramatic quest; you’re Beren’s heir. You kept both hands, and haven’t turned any allies into enemies, so there’s one ancestor you’re outdoing.”

“Thank you,” Aragorn replied dryly.

“There’s a formal delegation coming from Imlardis in a month to greet their kinsman and entrust the scepter of Arnor and such. Elrond, Arwen, and Lindir are all coming. He wants to sing at the wedding.”

“That will not be easy diplomatically. Is he bringing his sword, and are you armed?”

Legolas said, “You know, it’s rather rude to interrupt a private conversation, and not even introduce yourself.”

“If I was being rude, I wouldn’t be speaking Sindarin. Lindir will bring only his harp, though Elrond is bringing a spare in case Sauron’s less dead than he seems. I left my spear and bow in the armory; I have a belt knife on me but nothing more. Your guards aren’t watching it well by the way.”

“They are watching for people trying to remove weapons, not add them, and the window is too narrow to climb through.”

“The window is wide enough to stick my arm through, I placed my things inside. I could have used a rope and grapnel to steal any of the swords.”

“I am not defending against elves, but against men, who cannot perch on the wall outside for long. Legolas, this is Farar, a distant relative of Elrond; he taught me much of my woodcraft. I apologize for not introducing him sooner. Now uncle, what are you doing here?”

“I told you, Elrond is sailing soon. He is willing to hold my debt to your house fulfilled, if you will as well.”

Aragorn was saddened by that. “You have certainly helped my ancestors and myself over the years, though I will miss you if you leave. The line of Elros holds your debt repaid, and your crimes against my kin forgiven. Why now?”

“I gave my service to the kings of both Arnor and Gondor; I had to wait until someone claimed the crown to release me. And Elrond believes, as do Olorin and Artanis, that the time of elves is drawing to an end.”

“Will you sail?”

“Not immediately. I still have a debt to fulfill after all, though now both Nagrothrond and Luthien are repaid.”

Legolas could stand the speaking in circles no longer. “What in Elbereth’s name are you talking about?”

Farar turned all of his attention to Legolas for the first time. The gaze was disquieting, similar in strength to Galadriel but less knowing and more violent. “You are Oropher’s grandson.”

Legolas was surprised to hear mention of his grandfather, who he had never met and was best known for breaking formation in the battle against Sauron. “I am.”

“I wronged him, and would make amends. Do the Iathrim dwell still in the Greenwood, or have they moved to avoid the intrusion of the Edain?”

Legolas paused, as few elves still used the term. “The ones still on these shores who dwell not in Lothlorien are our people, aye. Who _are_ you?”

“Guess.”

Aragorn broke in, “Uncle, please don’t.”

“Why not? Elrond never introduces me to new elves, unless he’s already told them I’m there to make amends.”

“That seems like a good idea to me, for the sake of your own life if nothing else.”

“Staying safe is boring. Come on, I left all my weapons in your armory, I won’t hurt your friend.”

Aragorn visibly refrained form sighing in exapseration. “Give me your knife.” Farar took a blade made of shining obsidian from his belt, and handed it to Aragorn. “I won’t stop you, but I will ask why a mortal has more wisdom than an ancient elf.”

“Pityo always claimed I was dropped on my head as a child. Now come, let the curious Sinda prince guess my name.”

As much as Legolas wanted to know what was going on, Aragorn’s advice was usually wise. “I know little of the history before the Sun,” Legolas deferred.

“Oh, I saw a good part of the First Age in Beleriand, I’m sure you know of me.”

“Only the most glorious and the most terrible make it into songs.”

“And I am certain to be among those, if it’s Sindar doing the recounting. You won’t offend me, as long as you stick to guessing elves.”

Legolas thought carefully. The stranger’s features were not very Sindarin, but his hair is, and the power he had rare on these shores. “Elured? Or Elurin?”

Farar laughed uproariously. “No. I shall have to tell Kano though, get him to put it in a song.”

“It was unlikely. I assume then you are one of the Noldor from Aman.”

“Yes, I was born in Valinor.”

“A kinslayer, and so you wish to make penance for that.”

“Aye.”

Legolas paused, not sure if he wanted the information to come together. Born in Aman, seeking the forgiveness of the Iathrim, but also of the Nagrothrondim. Skilled in the ways of the wild. Elros and Elrond were of the line of Elwing, but before that from Luthien and Beren – and the way Farar spoke of the Quest for the Silmaril…

Legolas had his bow strung and an arrow knocked in a breath. “You are Celegorm Feanorian the Vicious.”

Farar raised his chin. “Tyelcormo Turkafinwe Feanaryon. If I die, I will do so under my own name, not some poor rendition imposed on me by an isolationist thief with a big ego.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you now.”

“You’ll make a mess of Aragorn’s palace. And your father might want to do it himself.”

Legolas spoke to Aragorn, but did not let his eyes or aim waver. “Why is this one permitted to travel freely, armed and with all his limbs?”

“The Valar sent him back at the start of the Age, to repay his crimes by working for those he wronged. The Lady Galadriel has forgiven him on Finrod’s part. Lord Celeborn and Erestor have granted what pardon they can on behalf of Doriath and Nargothrond. He has been working to repay his debt to the kin of Luthien and Beren and Dior. He has proven himself an ally to me and my kin, and I judge him to mean no harm.”

“His crimes are not against those close to you, after this many lifetimes of Men.”

“Lord Elrond also trusts him.”

“I will not slay a guest of yours who offers me no harm, though I expect my father will have words for Elrond about harboring a kinslayer.” Legolas returned the arrow to his quiver, but did not unstring his bow.

“Thank you.”

“Is his brother who is coming to your wedding Maglor, or are there more Feanorians loose in Middle Earth?”

Celegorm stretched his shoulders. “It’s just the two of us, the rest of the family’s in Valinor or Mandos. So, now that we all know each other, are you qualified to speak for King Thranduil?”

Legolas replied warily, “In some matters, yes.”

“In terms of punishing criminals?”

“Only if it’s urgent.”

“I’ve avoided him for three thousand years, a few more months can’t hurt. I’ll travel with you to the Greenwood when you go home, and he can take his revenge then”

“What makes you think I’m willing to travel with you?”

“Oh right. I mean ‘I surrender myself to your custody, Prince Legolas’. I’d offer to stay here and avoid trespassing on your land altogether, but you seemed so upset that there was no one watching me earlier. You probably don’t trust me not to wander off.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I expect you will kill again if you leave my sight for an hour.”

Aragorn broke in, "I will have guards follow Farar as long as he is in Minas Tirith, though I do not expect him to attack anyone."

**Author's Note:**

> "Alagor fwion" is Sindarin for "well done nephew"


End file.
